


Betrayed? Sorta!

by Zinfandel



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: BlackIce Week, Cute, Kisses, M/M, Masquerade, aw yiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-28
Updated: 2013-10-28
Packaged: 2017-12-30 17:45:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1021556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zinfandel/pseuds/Zinfandel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every year, after Christmas, North throws a New Years ball for all the spirits of the world! This year, Tooth suggests a masked ball, and Jack encounters a sympathetic soul.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Betrayed? Sorta!

**Author's Note:**

> EDIT: Oh gods. Let me apologize for posting something so horrifically typo'd last night! I was delirious with lack of sleep. I have edited it now finally so i hope things read smoother and it is less of a disaster!
> 
> For blackice week day 1: Masquerade! Its just cutesy stuff! i like canon-y things and seeing ways that maybe the two of these goofballs could hook up 
> 
> Thank you Fidix for all the support and the look over! I love you!

It was that time of year again. The weekend that Jack could maybe possibly argue to be his least favorite. Maybe. Possibly. Ok, no, it wasn't terrible, but it was definitely not his favorite.

 It was the weekend of the post-Christmas, New-Year’s Ball.

North threw the gala every year after the successful completion of his gift giving spree and always invited as many spirits and beings of belief the world over to partake in the festivities. As he was the most believed-in and well known tale across the globe, his invitation was far reaching and widely gossiped.

It’s also an invitation Jack had never received.

Not even after becoming a Guardian.

Once initiated it then became sort of just understood that Jack should be there. The first time Jack experienced the party, he became so overwhelmed with attention that he fled not two hours in, only to return the next day full of sheepish apologies.

Now, a few decades later, Jack, who had settled into his role as an uplifter of spirits for the bleakest months of the year, found this weekend to fall flat to the excitement of even a mere sled ride.

It wasn’t that the party was boring, of course. Seeing immortals crammed into one room (albeit a huge and lavishly decorated one) getting intoxicated and having a good time was actually pretty fun. Meeting new spirits was great too.

He just felt a bit ostracised by the whole thing. Even now, Spirits had their groups of friends, their acquaintances, those they arrived with and those they mingled with. North seemed to be the only one in the whole room able to move from clique to clique with ease.

The other seasonal spirits always avoided Jack, be it due to jealousy, or more likely, their incompatibility. The winter spirits, being the closest to Jack’s own nature were all rather frozen in their movements and their sentiments preferring to stay stiff and cold, upholding their namesake. Holiday spirits focused around each other with similar centers.

Jack had found that interacting with them had really set him apart. He was not cold like winter should be, he was not mature (as he’d been reminded by Bunny many times) like an adult and thus not interested in more adult entertainments, like card games or relaxed things. His lack of seriousness kept him from the more stoic types, and his focus on children and their games separated him from the tricksters who had no inhibitions with a bit of viciousness in their games.

And, it was royally stupid of him to mention such thoughts during the planning meeting the day after Christmas.

Tooth turned to him concerned and Jack caught his breath realizing what he let slip.

“No look, all I meant was that this isn’t my sort of fun, so I’ll just...I’ll go and give people white New Years’ instead.”

Sandy shook his finger at Jack in a reprimanding yet friendly sort of gesture.

“Gettin’ cold feet again, are ya?” Bunnymund joked as he grinned from behind an egg he was painting.

Jack frowned. The Guardians really were nice. It was amazing that they brought him in and accepted him so warmly. Jack knew they cared for him and felt all the more guilty that he just couldn’t seem to fit in as seamlessly as they wanted.

“Nonsense, Jack!” North beamed happily. “Everyone loves you! You are a Guardian. You will see! Every year friends come to the Ball and tell me how good you are! How surprised they are by you! By your strength and fun! You have been on Nice list for decades now! I should know!” His eyes were practically sparkling with wonder and Jack couldn’t help but smile in return.

The small tooth fairies around Toothiana swooned at the gesture, and soon the distinct chirruping of Baby Tooth sounded and Tooth gasped with delight. All eyes turned to her.

“Baby Tooth has a wonderful idea, North! This year’s theme should be a Masquerade!”

Bunny rolled his eyes and Sandy clapped cheerily in response.

North grinned. “Tis a perfect idea! See, Jack! With Masquerade we can all meet again, have second chance! Make new friends and re-do first impressions!”

Jack nodded and sat back, hopefully this party would be better than the rest.

~~~

The invitations were sent and the yetis worked tirelessly to transform the bustling workshop into an elegant ballroom, the floors and balconies as tiered galleries and the mid level floored over to make a huge dance floor and main congregation point around the giant globe. The colors were picked and decorations in silver and gold adorned every surface available.

Jack, was skeptical. The idea was a bit absurd to be honest. So many spirits looked so entirely unique they would all need more than just a mask. And second introductions? That was pretty bogus. No one would actually take a second impression over Jack’s disastrous first…  
Tooth, however, put herself in charge of of Jack’s costume. She refused to let him decide on any details and insisted it would look amazing, and beautiful, and blah blah blah.

He found himself, the night of the Gala, decked out in the guise of a white stag. Glittering antlers were woven into his hair and a a deer half-mask hid his features. He wore only a white tunic and leggings cinched at his waist with a thick white sash. On his arms and calves were furred sleeves decorated in gaudy jewels. He felt more like a doll than a stag and guessed that maybe Tooth liked white a bit too much. His natural frost swept over the costume setting everything in a shimmery sort of glow that sparkled more than the facets adorning his fur vambraces.

The other Guardians entered the main room, the guests having yet to arrive. Jack noticed how very like themselves they looked, and then affectionately chuckled quietly to himself because really, did they even try? Honestly, no one would have any trouble pointing out a giant rabbit disguised as a rogue in gilt leathers. Tooth pretty much just went with a water theme dressed in a long flowing sari that covered way past her feet. North probably missed the memo completely because, while he looked fancy, his only disguise was a golden mask across his eyes.

Jack felt a small warm hand on his shoulder and turned to Sandy hovering beside him. He grinned at the little man’s costume, for he was completely black, somehow managing to turn his dreamsand inky without corrupting it, a black smudge of sand across his eyes in a facsimile of his own mask.

The yetis sounded a chime and the doors to the workshop were swung open signalling the beginning of the festivities, as well as Jack’s night-long attempt at socializing with more spirits than he thought existed..

He took his staff, which had been decorated to look more like a natural tree branch, and floated off to the still vacant couches in front of the biggest fireplace.

Maybe a half hour later the noise levels in the workshop soared as spirits arrived for the weekend of fun and relaxation. Sandy floated over the back of the couch and settled next to Jack offering him a goblet.

Jack took it gratefully, smiling down at the little man. Eggnog, of course. They conversed as they drank together, the two of them having found a sort of pseudo language of their own over the years that mostly involved Jack gesturing with his hands, and sometimes frost as well as speaking. Sandy was easily Jack’s closest friend - a fact that Jack was well aware of despite his usual social awkwardness - second only to the wind. Their calm, reserved relationship turned out to be an unexpected surprise to the other Guardians who were so sure Jack was purely made of boisterous fun.

A hand slapped across Jack’s back, nearly toppling him off the couch, and North was there laughing and picking the boy up by the arms setting him standing on the floor. Jack grinned at the rosy tint to North’s cheeks; the man was already drunk, most likely from starting to indulge since the early afternoon. Jack then felt the warmth in himself from the eggnog and glanced over at the coffee-table noticing there were many empty eggnog glasses between Sandy and him already. He was clearly on his way to being drunk as well. Go figure. Maybe it would help him fit in better...

Sandy had disappeared as soon as Jack looked away, and North was saying something as he pulled Jack out onto the floor to mingle. Jack looked around, dazed, gazing at the crowd that had gathered. The workshop had never quite appeared huge (so packed with toys as it was), but all the spirits here made it look downright cramped. Jack felt a small swirl of anxiety in his stomach at the thought. He hated feeling so confined.

North directed him over to Tooth and Bunny who were speaking with a group of clear spring elementals, not so discretely disguised as human royals.

He actually managed minutes worth of stilted conversation and noticed one of the girls in flouncing skirts smiling at him. It was a strange feeling being the focus of attention for so long, and Jack smiled back tentatively.

Then, a large group of spirits clad in black from head to toe sporting ceremonial carved african masks swept into the party together before promptly splitting ranks and disappearing into the crowd. Some going immediately for drinks, others parting to mingle into conversation, a few stepping out to dance, and another number disappearing down the hallways. Probably to North’s libraries, as Jack knew the books were a popular draw to the party when North opened his home freely once a year.

One masked figure, wearing a long carved piece that Jack recognized as a human tribute to a god of death, paused momentarily looking straight at Jack and he felt a shiver down his spine as gold flashed behind the eyes of the mask.

Jack was pulled from the moment their eyes locked as the warm hand of the girl of spring grabbed his wrist to pull him onto the dance floor. He blinked and the spirit had disappeared. Turning to the girl, he politely declined her invitation and excused himself to find North.

~~~

“Hey, North!” It takes Jack several minutes to locate him amid the throng of guests. “Who are the guys that showed up in the tribal masks?” He asks as he hops into the air to float over to North more quickly. He stumbles a bit in the warm breeze, realizing he may be a bit more tipsy than previously thought.

“Ah, African spirits if you cannot tell! I believe they are honoring their believers!” North chuckles, wrapping an arm around Jack’s shoulders. It’s a comforting hug, North is massive and warm and his arms are so welcoming. Jack leans into him, let’s him talk as they move through the guests. North elaborates on various costumes and tributes guests adorn themselves with, explains their motives and excuses for dressing as such since a masquerade is such a good opportunity for most to express themselves differently.

“Anansi is probably there. We will go say hi!”

“Ah, ok.” Jack can’t really protest, not to North. He’s all lumbering action, a hurricane that sweeps him away before he can react.

Jack lets himself be reintroduced as he bows gracefully. The golden eyed spirit is in this party and North trips on talking to who Jack can only guess is Anansi, their conversation spiralling away without him.

The masked spirit bows back to Jack and he can’t help but smile as they approach. He speaks quietly to Jack and all he can make out is that the voice is male, which isn’t much information at all. Jack just smiles and nods, his go to gesture when he doesn’t know what to do.

The eye’s flash behind the mask and Jack can hear the man chuckle briefly before motioning with a black gloved hand to a door off of the main workshop and Jack nods, agreeing to the silent idea. It is much too loud and crowded in here anyways.

The spirit hooks his elbow around Jack’s own and leads him towards the sanctuary of silence the hallways prove to be. They walk together for a bit, Jack finding the contact and warmth of the being comfortable.

“Jack Frost, I presume?” The spirit breaks the silence, his voice deep and melodious, with the hint of an accent, but surprisingly very American sounding, like himself.

“Yeah, This costume is rather obvious.” Jack replies, feeling fuzzy and calm as the alcohol in his system stabilizes to a buzzing comfort.

They slow their walk once the noise of the party is just a background hum and the spirit keeps his arm locked with Jacks, Jack staying politely distant.

“Party not to your tastes?” The stranger asks.

“Ah, no It’s great...fun.” Jack finishes weakly. The arm tightens against his drawing him against the side of the stranger.

“That doesn’t sound very convincing. Being a Guardian not all it’s cracked up to be?”

Jack stops walking and pulls his arm from the Spirit’s hold. The man turns to him, his eyes barely visible in the gloom behind the mask.

“Being a Guardian is the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” Jack retorts stiffly, taken back by the blunt question that surprisingly hits a little too close to home.

The spirit responds by wrapping his arm around Jack’s waist humming an approving sound as he coaxes him to walk again. Jack lets it happen but still wears a frown.

“I meant nothing by it. I believe you.” The voice soothes, and Jack relaxes just a bit more. “I was only concerned that you with a center such as fun does not look to be participating in the feeling.”

“Oh.”

“But why? I thought parties might be right up your alley.”

“North’s are just so big. So claustrophobic... and no one seems to like me-ah-” Jack catches his tongue too late and let his thoughts spill once again. Frowning, he sighs. “I mean…”

“No, I understand.” The hand slides up from Jack’s waist to his shoulder pulling him into the side of the stranger’s chest as they walk.

“Who are you?” Jack asks after a beat of silence.

“Just a spirit who deals in unsavory elements.”

Jack smiles a bit. “What kind?” The mystery of the person is strangely alluring.

“Darkness and Night.” The reply is quiet and tentative.

“Oh.”

“Does this upset you?” The masked spirit stops their stroll and loosens his grip on Jack’s shoulder.

Jack in turn stands up straighter facing the stranger. “No! Of course not! Just because you work with the dark doesn’t mean - shouldn’t mean...I mean...People have no right to judge you on something you had no choice in being!” Jack cuts himself off, huffing, having worked himself up. He rubs a hand down his face and sighs. “Sorry.”

That warm gloved hand is upon his cheek almost instantly, and Jack can’t help but flinch away in surprise. The stranger pulls his own hand back.

“Jack…” He mutters.

Jack looks at him, unsure of what to do. Their conversation has been so brief and yet here is spilling inanities he’s kept to himself for years.

The spirit approaches him once again, wrapping his arm around Jack’s shoulder a second time pulling him back into a sideways embrace. A set of grand doors opens from the darkness’ command and the stranger gently leads Jack inside, to the library.

They move over to another fireplace framed in comfy chairs and couches. The room is vast with bookshelves, but it feels cozy and close. Another spirit in a different mask is in one of the wingbacks under a lamp and the stranger pulls Jack over to a long plush couch facing the hearth.

Quietly, the stranger sits at the corner of the couch and pulls Jack’s hand to get him to sink into the cushions as well. Jack obliges, excusing his forwardness on the alcohol, and sits next to his mysterious new friend leaning against him, his back to their chest, the long mask shifting to the side a bit.

After a few quiet minutes, as Jack adjusts himself with his antlers and the man’s mask, they settle into a comfortable half-cuddle, Jack burying his toes in between the cushions.

“Who knew you can be so calm.” That deep voice observes, it vibrates into Jack’s back.

“Sorry,” Is all Jack manages to mumble, feeling drowsy.

“For what?”

“Even I’m not fun all the time.”

“What is there to be sorry for in that?”

“Center of fun? Not having fun?”

“You assume I also judge you for something you cannot help.”

“Ah,” Jack sits up, concerned. “No, I didn’t mean it like that - I - I’m sorry.”

“Hush.” The spirit soothes while pulling Jack back against his chest. Jack obeys once again and settles into the loose embrace.

They proceed to speak quietly for a long time, the african spirit plying Jack for answers gently, Jack giving them willingly. Jack tells him the first time he was at the party and ran, afraid. How Bunnymund still makes fun of him for it. How the Guardians are wonderful, but sometimes they just don’t get it. How Jack tries hard to make new friends but his center and element are so contradictory that it often rubs other spirits the wrong way. How he feels so isolated while still being surrounded by so many people, and how he wants to be in large crowds but also wants to run away from them.

The spirit at his back, with arms wrapped around his waist, seemingly completely unaffected by Jack’s cold listens attentively, humming replies and agreements occasionally between more questions. Jack is vaguely aware that the spirit is also refusing to provide any information about himself, redirecting Jack’s questions with more of his own.

Jack finds himself divulging quiet little secrets he’s never found worthy to tell anyone, and eventually he speaks about his insecurities of being a Guardian himself. He wants to be useful and liked, to be looked up to by other spirits and hugged by North for doing a job well done. He doesn’t want something like Easter and Pitch to happen again, but the result of such dire circumstances proved to be the happiest moment in Jack’s entire existence. He wants to feel like that again. Seen and needed. Somehow. Someday…

~~~

The next thing Jack was aware of was Toothiana and her baby teeth tapping Jack on the shoulder gently to wake him.

He sat up, a slight headache pounding behind his eyes and looked around. He was still on the couch in the library, but he’s alone, no warm stranger at his back, no gloved hands around his waist, or carding through his hair around the antlers. Did that happen? He scratched absently behind his ear.

“Jack! Good you are awake! It’s almost New Years!” Tooth giggled and grabbed Jack by the hands pulling him to his feet.

“Ok, ok. I’m coming. Where’s my…?” He looked around for his staff and found it leaning against the library door frame. Stepping over to grab it, Jack can barely turn before he was ushered back out to the main ballroom for the countdown on North’s giant globe.

“Which New Years, Tooth?” He asked.

“We’re over America now! I think it’s New York!” She laughed and pushed Jack forwards into the crowd watching the globe with glasses raised.

Jack hopped into the air instead, to get a better view and to get away from the tightly gathered terrestrial spirits, when without warning, the lights blinked out.

Spirits and elementals gasped and a low murmur began to grow. Yeti were grumbling and growling and North’s voice suddenly boomed over the crowd. “Phil! What is going on?!”

A cackle that Jack knew all too well rang around the darkened room. He frowned deeply, confused. It sounded so much like…

Moonlight filtered in through the windows illuminating a shade of a person atop North’s globe as lights blinked back to life. It was the masked African spirit. Jack’s stomach plummeted.

The spirit threw off his mask and Jack couldn’t help the near feral growl that rumbled through him.

Pitch.

It was Pitch Black.

The spirit he drunkenly spent the entire evening with talking and, and...cuddling with! Was Pitch! Jack practically saw red.

The Nightmare King started some stupid rant and raved about fear or moon knows what. Jack didn’t care. He was played. He spoke of personal things to their greatest enemy!

Flying spirits made to move in and capture Pitch but nightmare sand swirled around him defensively, keeping them at bay. The yeti were scrambling for crossbows and other projectiles and North was demanding his swords or something to throw. Bunnymund was inconveniently weaponless.

But Jack wasn’t.

Oh-ho, no, Jack had his staff right in hand! And Pitch was only meters from him! Tooth was demobilized by the swirling sand, Sandy was oddly outmatched by one single Nightmare that rushed in through the open skylight, and the land Spirits who weren’t completely smashed were trying to figure out some way to get things to throw or powers to work.

They were too slow!

“PITCH!” Jack shouted.

The room seemed to oddly hush.

“Ah! Jack Frost! Guardian of Fun, was it?” Pitch’s tone is mocking. Infuriating.

“LEAVE!” Jack commanded and the Nightmare King scoffed.

“Make me!”

And, with a furious shout, Jack charged the cloud of glittering black to do just that, waisting no more time on words. He vaguely heard North shout ‘No!’ and other Spirits try to stop him, but it was far too late. He bolted head first towards Pitch and disappeared into the sand.

A moment, then a huge rumbling thunder crack vibrated the whole building to it’s foundation. Blue lightning crackled through the sand skittering out across the balconies and ceiling beams. Sand hissed and fell inert from the attack. Ice splintered out all down the globe and up into the rafters and along railings.

Pitch was nowhere to be seen.

The sand settled, and it quickly turned gold, Sandy converting it back.

Jack dropped down onto the globe, weakened, but not decommissioned. Doing that was always draining, but he’s been a Guardian for years now, it can’t take him out as easily as it once did.

Silence filled the air and Jack gasped for breath, trying to calm himself and his fury. He was betrayed. Betrayed by someone he didn’t even see the face of. He shouldn’t have done what he did. He was foolish and still so obviously young. He gave away secrets, things that could destroy him. Things Pitch could use against him, give him nightmares for centuries about, weaken his resolve with, drive him insane with - No. Calm down. Things will be ok.

The room erupted into cacophonous cheers. So loud Jack nearly slid off the globe in surprise.

Toothiana tackled him right off the structure into the air. Sandy following with a hug, and then all the Spirits who could fly swarmed the trio.

Chattering drowned out nearly everything else except North could be heard laughing above it all. Yetis were grumbling and replacing weapons and the elves began to steal all the neglected glasses before the Spirits could remember they were at a party.

Slowly, the crowd of airborne spirits lowered to the ground to the demands of their land-bound counterparts and the next thing Jack knew he was in the most suffocating hug by North he may have ever experienced.

Gasping for breath and fighting tears he squawked “Wh-what! North? Wha-”

“Jack! You defeated Pitch!” The man, that was so much like a father Jack was embarrassed to admit it, shouted as he hugged him tight once again.

Spirits and elementals crowded the pair and Jack found he had no time to be claustrophobic when he felt so good. The other Guardians made their way over to them and Jack nearly choked as Bunny patted him on the back.

Spirits were calling for spirits and the next minute toasts were being made, the party resumed in full swing, and Jack found himself the center of attention the likes of which topped everything he had ever hoped for. Thank the moon for alcohol else he might have ended up running again from the force of it all.

~~~

It took the Yetis nearly three whole days to clean up after the party. There was melting ice everywhere and things really kicked into gear after the near disaster of Pitch Black’s attempt to crash.

Jack, though, was again uneasy. He couldn’t shake from his mind how Pitch might use his secrets against him that he so unwittingly divulged simply by being paid attention to. It made his skin crawl that he was so easily manipulated.

No.

There was only one thing for it. Jack needed to go and confront Pitch about it. Get Pitch to do….what, though? Ask him nicely to not give Jack nightmares for the rest of eternity? Please, Mr. Nightmare King don’t drive me insane with my own insecurities?

Good moons. Jack was royally screwed.

And he didn’t want to tell North about it. It would mean admitting his folly if he couldn’t handle this himself. He’d made a mistake and the last thing he wanted was North disappointed in him. He could put all the Guardians in danger if he involved them...No, Jack couldn’t risk it.

So, he found himself flying one night, a week from the party to Pitch’s lair.

The bed was back over the hole like a cheeky invitation for visitors. Jack frowned and gripped his staff tighter, before hopping into the gloom.

“Pitch!” He shouted trying to make himself sound confident. He really had the lesser hand here and he knew it.

Flying over to the glowing globe, Jack landed atop it and looked around. “Pitch! Come out now!”

Hands snaked around his waist out of nowhere and a warm chest pressed against his back. Jack gasped and jumped out of the embrace and retreated holding his staff defensively.

“How good of you to drop by, Jack.” Pitch crooned, holding his place atop his globe.

“Pitch, I-” And suddenly Jack lost all of his words. How could he possibly ask his greatest enemy to keep his secrets?

“What’s wrong Jack?” The Nightmare King asked. “The Hero of the year, saving a globe’s worth of Fae from the scourge of the darkness, lost for words?”

And at those mocking words it clicked. Jack’s eyes went wide as he watched Pitch fold his hands behind his back, a purposefully blank expression across his features.

“Pitch, you,” Jack had to swallow, something tight was in his throat and chest. “You did that, on purpose?”

“Of course, you moron. Attempting to do in over three quarters of all the fae in the world in one go while they are all inebriated was the perfect plan! That is, until you decided to wake up.” His voice was crisp and precise, schooled into indifference.

Jack found himself smiling and he floated closer his staff gripped less tightly. Pitch looked mildly uncomfortable.

“Seriously? That’s amazing you really...For me?”

Pitch seemed to turn almost green. He looked away from Jack and his lips worked around some obstacle for nearly two minutes before he managed to croak, “Yes.”

Jack almost laughed out loud. He was barely even aware the wind had drawn him closer and his body moved on it’s own as he quickly wrapped his arms around Pitch’s neck soundly pressing his lips to Pitch’s, who in turn nearly wheezed in surprise and fell from the globe. His arms flailed around Jack and finally landed on his shoulders pushing him back. Jack snorted when he saw Pitch’s face flush a darker gray.

“What are you-?” Pitch sputtered. Jack refused to let go from the hug.

“Some Boogeyman you are.” Jack teased, affection dripping in his voice. His relief was instantaneous, letting his actions be wild and carefree. He just kissed that boogeyman.

“I cannot help what I cannot control.” Pitch replied pouting, finally steadying himself, his grip on Jack’s shoulders more firm, much surer.

Jack laughed. Then, slid a hand up Pitch’s neck to cup a chiseled cheek as he leaned back in to press another kiss to gray lips. Pitch shivered beneath his touch and snaked his arms around Jack’s shoulders to pull him closer. Jack laughed again, a hot tongue darting into his open mouth at the chance. It was his turn to tremble; intimacy like this was long foreign to him. Closed mouth kisses were one thing but this…

Jack pulled away and Pitch’s brow furrowed. “Has your moment of insanity passed?” He asked, guarded.

Sighing, Jack leaned in and rested his temple against Pitch’s collarbone. “Not unless you drive me mad with nightmares for the rest of forever.”

“It seems you are already quite mad.”

“But will you?”

“Maybe. If you leave.”

Jack grinned. “Then, I guess I’m staying.”


End file.
